Angels and Demons
by Tenor
Summary: Classic BulmaVegeta High School fic with a twist, as always. Really can't explain it, take a peek, but be warned, there will be violence, sexual themes, and all that jazz.
1. Chapter 1

Yay! My first high school DBZ fanfic! In fact, my only fanfic I've ever had the nerve to put online! I decided to do a classic high school Bulma/Vegeta fic because I've read so many. So here goes nothing, I suppose!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Dragon Ball Z….I'd spontaneously combust. Then you'd have something interesting to watch, wouldn't you?

* * *

"Bulma, honey! It's time for school!"

Bulma slowly opened her eyes, trying to remember her dream. She had been saved by an angel with black wings…

"Bulma? Are you sick?"

"No, mother, I just-"

Suddenly, it dawned on her. Today was her first day of school! Her first day of high school! She attempted to leap out of bed, but instead fell, a result of being tangled in her sheets. She was finally a freshman! After fighting with her bedding, she changed out of her pajamas, took a quick shower, and pulled on a pair of khaki hip-huggers and a green baby-tee that read "_I may be looking, but don't think I'm interested!_" in white letters.

"Hurry, Bulma, or you'll miss breakfast!"

"Okay, mother!"

She laced on a pair of baby-green Adidas, brushed her teeth, and bulled her hair into a loose bun. She hurried down the stairs.

"Oh! Hello, honey; ready for school?"

"Yep! Where's Dad?"

"He's waiting for you outside; he wants to give you a lift to school."

"Oh; well, you know Mom, since I have my license now, I thought I'd just drive myself," Bulma suggested, hoping she sounded casual.

"Here honey," her mother said, as if she hadn't heard her. "It's strawberry!"

Bulma sighed and took the pop-tart, then hurried outside.

She had her back to the driveway to close the door when she heard her father call, "Happy Birthday!"

Bulma shook her head as she turned. "Daddy, my birthday isn't for another six mo-"

Her mouth fell open in shock before she could finish her sentence; her father was standing in front of a sleek, brand-new, emerald-green Ford Mustang convertible.

"Oh, Daddy! Where did you get it? That's an American car!" she said running to Dr. Briefs and throwing her arms around him.

"Well, it cost a pretty penny or so, but I have a friend all the way in Helena-"

"Where?"

"Oh; it's a city in the United States. Anyway, he had a few connections in the company, and, well; here it is!"

"Thank you so much! I'll be careful Daddy; I promise!"

Bulma quickly planted a kiss on her father's cheek and hopped in her new car. The keys were already waiting in the ignition; she brought the vehicle to life, backed out of the driveway, and was gone.

Ten minutes later, Bulma was caught in a traffic jam not five miles from school.

"Come on!" she screamed angrily. "I'm gonna be late!"

A loud, rumbling noise made her look right; an older-looking motorcycle had squeezed between her car and another and was now waiting for another opening.

The teenager astride the vehicle was wearing all black, including his helmet, so Bulma had no chance of identifying him. A van in front of her moved slightly left, and the man took advantage of the extra space. The motorcycle shot forward, and Bulma thought for a moment that she had seen a black feather fly out from the neck of his jacket.

Bulma arrived at school a few minutes later and found an empty parking space near the front. She checked her reflection in her rear view mirror, then leapt from her car. A girl with shoulder-length black hair waved frantically at her; Bulma grinned and jogged over.

"Bulma! Where did you get that car!" the girl said, looking enviously at her.

"Daddy bought it for me; early birthday present," Bulma explained. "But Chi-Chi, what did you do to you hair?"

"Why? Does it look bad?"

"No! It looks great, I was just surprised, that's all; it's so short!"

"Oh; thanks," Chi-Chi said, grinning. "We better hurry before-"

BBRRRIIINNGG!

"The bell!" they shouted in unison; they looked at each other, laughed, then ran into the building.

Chi-Chi was running with her head down, looking at a piece of paper.

"I've got…Algebra I first, with Ms. Price…What about you?"

Bulma pulled out a small square of paper from her pocket. "Umm…Physics/Chemistry and Theory."

"Geez, Bulma; you're so smart!"

"Thanks; Oh! This is my class. See you later, Chi-Chi!"

Bulma hurried into the room. The class, which had been audible outside the door, fell silent. The instructor adjusted his glasses.

"Are you lost?" he said.

"Um; I don't think so," Bulma replied.

"This is Advanced Physics/Chemistry and Theory 101," he drawled.

"Oh, good; I was worried for a second!"

"You've enrolled in this class?"

"Yep."

"…What's your name?"

"Bulma Briefs." The interest level of the class seemed to rise.

The instructor checked his list.

"Oh! So you are…Well, take a seat."

"Gladly." Bulma took an empty seat at the back. The teacher continued to drone on about rules and procedures, and Bulma watched the moments slowly tick by. With five minutes to go, the instructor took roll.

"Briefs."

"Here."

"Bunker."

"Here."

"Canter."

"Yo."

The instructor continued until he reached the last name.

"Ouji….Ouji?…" The teacher groaned, making a mark on his book, then mumbled to himself, so that Bulma could only make out, "…so intelligent…only applied himself…"

BRING!

Bulma filed out of the room, and forgot about the 'Ouji' character.

Lunchtime roller around, and Bulma found Chi-Chi outside.

"Aren't you hungry?" Bulma asked.

"Of course; I'm having it delivered."

"Delivered? By who?"

Chi-Chi blushed. "Well; you remember that cute kid on the football team?"

"The one with the wild hair?" Bulma grinned.

"The same! He bumped into me as I was coming out of the lunch line, and of course everything on my tray went everywhere," Chi-Chi rolled her eyes as she said this. "So anyway, he apologized like 50 times until I finally told him I'd just go out when he said he was on his way out, and would I mind if he bought me something!"

"Aww; that was sweet."

"I know! His name is Son Goku; he's so adorable!"

Bulma sat down beside her. "Wish it were that easy for me."

"Oh, come on, Bulma! You could get any guy you want!"

"I dunno…"

"What about him" Chi-Chi asked, nodding at a guy. "He's cute."

Bulma looked at the indicated person; he was winking at a bunch of girls she knew as cheerleaders.

"I don't know; he seems full of himself, 'ya know?"

"Maybe he's just insecure. Okay, so what's your type, anyway?"

"Well…He's got to have a great body, for starters."

"Fair enough." The pair of them laughed.

"Let's see…Dark eyes are a plus; the kind you can fall into when you look at them…And I've always like the 'mysterious, quiet, and dangerous' routine."

"Oh! Well then, what about him?" Chi-Chi placed a hand on Bulma's head and turned it.

Bulma began to ask who, but stopped; it was obvious 'who.' He stood at about five feet, eight inches, with black hair like a flame. He was attired in what was considered 'goth': black slacks with straps and chains, a black t-shirt, black Vans. He had an assortment of chains, cuffs, necklaces, and bracelets around his neck and arms, and when he turned, Bulma could see his deep obsidian eyes.

At that moment, a tall teenage boy with wild, black hair walked over.

"Hey Chi-Chi!"

"Oh! Hey, Goku! Bulma this is Son Goku; Goku, Bulma Briefs."

"What?" Bulma looked over. "Oh! Sorry; day-dreaming."

"Nice to meet you," Goku smiled at her.

"Goku; where's the food?" Chi-Chi asked.

"Oh! Don't worry; it's in this capsule."

"They give meals out in capsules now?"

"Well, no; but they had to for my order."

"What was so special about your order?" Bulma asked.

"Well…It was just so big," Goku replied as he activated the capsule. One giant "POOF!" later, there was a huge cardboard box with one paper bag sitting on top and one very large soda.

"Oh no! I forgot you drink, Chi-Chi—I'm so sorry!"

"That's okay, Goku; we could share yours."

Goku blushed. "Okay."

Chi-Chi took her bag and looked over at Bulma, who had risen.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, I'm hungry now; I'll be right back."

"Okay; see you in a bit!"

Bulma headed back inside and walked towards the lunch line. She was nearly there when a hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around. He was tall and imposing, with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes, and he was attired in faded jeans, a Nike shirt, his lettermen jacket, and red Nikes.

"_Jock,"_ Bulma thought.

"Hello, sweetheart; you're lookin' fine," he said.

"I was fine," Bulma replied dryly.

"I'm sure it'll get better," he continued, not picking up Bulma's sarcasm. "I seem to have lost my number; may I have yours?"

"Aw, that was cute. How long did it take you to come up with that line: a few months?"

Bulma stared at him, and noticed he looked confused. She rolled her eyes.

"Basically, I just told you to leave me alone. Good-bye."

She started to leave, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"Ow! Let go of me!"

"No one blows me off, bitch!"

"Let go!"

SMACK!

The sound of his hand across her cheek echoed throughout the cafeteria. Tears rolled down her face.

"Let me go; you don't even know me!"

He grabbed her hair and yanked her towards him so he could whisper in her ear.

"I know who you are, Bulma, and I know where you live," he said quietly. "You'll be at the docks tomorrow night at 10:00, or your family will suffer."

Bulma whimpered; he sounded serious, plus he knew her name. The jock let go of her hair, but the next second a foot swung sideways into his jaw, knocking him to the ground. Bulma looked over in surprise and saw the goth from before had saved her. He glanced at her quietly, then glared at the kid on the floor and cracked his knuckles.

"Kartic, how many times am I going to have to kick your ass before you leave other people alone?" he asked the fallen.

"Jin! Mind your own damn business!" Kartic spat back.

"_Jin?"_ Bulma thought. "_What kind of a name is that?"_

"Crawl back under your rock, Kartic, or I'll put you there," Jin growled.

Kartic climbed to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which was bleeding due to the kick. He glared at Bulma once, then stalked off.

Jin watched him go for a few moments, then glanced at Bulma.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, his head down.

"Yes; thank you."

He grunted, then started to walk away.

"Hey; wait a second! Where are you going?"

"…Where I belong; I'm not welcome on this side."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned and looked straight at her for the first time, and Bulma thought for a moment she saw a red tinge appear across his cheeks; she decided it was just the light.

"You're a freshman, aren't you?"

"Sure am."

He snorted. "This side of the cafeteria is for your kind: preps, jocks, and your other assortment of popular teens."

He wasn't speaking to the floor anymore, and Bulma could hear just how deep his voice was. She felt calmed just listening to him speak.

"That side is for everybody else; anyone who doesn't care about appearance, popularity, sports, or the honor roll."

"Wait a minute; did you call me a prep?"

"…You're not?"

"Do I look like one?"

"…"

"…Okay, so I like to look good; big deal! That doesn't make me a prep!"

"…Whatever." He turned and headed outside.

"Hey!"

He ignored her, and Bulma, out of frustration, shot her fist outward. It connected with a vending machine, and five sodas clambered to the floor. She stalked after him, and found him talking with Goku. Well, more like Goku caught his attention before he could escape.

"Dude, you totally nailed him! It was awesome!"

"Whatever you say, Kakarot."

"Hey, is practice still on this Friday?"

"Yeah; inform Aiya, would you? I think we're going to meet in the old gymnasium around—"

"Hey, listen here, Mister—" Bulma began, spinning Jin around.

"Bulma!" Chi-Chi shouted, interrupting her. "Are you alright? I was really worried; I could hear the impact out here!"

"I'm fine, Chi-Chi—"

"But your cheek's all red! You should go see the nurse or—"

"I said I'm fine!" She turned back to Jin. His expression remained impassive. "What's your problem?"

"What are you talking about?" he replied in a low voice.

"You fly outta nowhere like a knight in shining armor saving the damsel in distress, and then turn and walk away!"

"…I still don't under—"

"You can't just save my ass and then leave; you didn't even get my name. I don't even know who you are; how am I going to repay the favor?"

"Everyone in West City knows who you are, Girl. You don't need to know me, and you don't need to repay the favor."

"If everyone in West City knows who I am, why can't you say my name?"

"I don't get close with others—"

"You seem close to Goku; although, if I heard you correctly, you called him by a nickname or something."

"I called him by his real na—"

He stopped mid-word, a shocked expression on his face. Goku was looking nervous.

"I'm out of here," he muttered, turning to go.

"Wait!" Bulma said, grabbing his wrist.

"Girl—"

"…I want to know you; I want to repay the favor. Please, give me a chance."

Jin stared into her eyes; _Lord, she was beautiful_.

"I can't."

"Yes you can; please—"

"I'm sorry; I can't."

Bulma hesitated, then let go of his arm. He stared back at her for a moment; then his eyes focused on Goku.

"Old gym. We'll meet at the usual place and time first to establish specifics."

Goku nodded, his eyes flickering once from Jin to Bulma, then back to Jin. Jin looked at him for a moment, then turned and walked away, his hands in his pockets.

Bulma stared after him for a while, looking slightly disappointed. She then turned to Goku.

"…Son? What's up with him?"

Goku flushed slightly, looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry, Bulma, but I really can't say anything. He has to open up to others on his own time, and it would be inconsiderate of me to tell you anything."

"Well, what about that name he called you? What does that mean?"

Goku shook his head.

"That, I really can't tell you, and not only for his sake. I'm sorry."

Bulma growled slightly in irritation, staring at him, but Goku refused to speak. She finally sighed and headed back inside. Chi-Chi stared after her, than shot a sideways glance at Goku.

"No, Chi-Chi; I can't tell anyone. Sorry," Goku replied, looking down at her. She smiled up at him.

"I understand, and Bulma does too; she just has a harder time showing it. She's extremely curious by nature, but she has a good heart, and her intentions are generally in the right direction."

"I know; I met her once," Goku said softly, more to himself than to Chi-Chi. She looked at him, a bit confused.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing. Let's eat," he replied quickly, smiling.

* * *

Author's note: I know, I know; she's not old enough to drive, but it's my story, and I say that she can drive at fourteen, so there…. Yeah…

Well, here we go. What'd you think? Let me know, and I'll think about putting up more chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

Not exactly sure if I should keep putting this up here…But I'd rather be safe than sorry…

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Dragon Ball Z….I'd spontaneously combust. Then you'd have something interesting to watch, wouldn't you?

* * *

Bulma found it a difficult task to concentrate on school after the incident at lunch. Her mind kept wandering to thoughts of Jin; underneath all of that "tough-guy" exterior, she was sure there was some good, and now that she knew he wouldn't let others in, she was determined to open the door herself. People had often said her inquisitive nature would get her into trouble one day, and she had no idea how right they were.

She was sorely disappointed to find that Jin's schedule didn't seem to collide with any of her classes. When the final bell of the day sounded, she trudged her way out to her car, so absorbed into her thoughts she didn't even notice the callings of her best friend. As she reached her car the first thing she noticed was a long, jagged scratch in the side, probably made by a key. Throwing her bag into the back seat with a scowl, she then noticed the piece of paper taped to her steering wheel.

_Just in case you think I'm kidding, here's a little warning. A scratch on your car is only the beginning. Be there._

Bulma stared in horror at the note; how could he have known? A hand came down on her shoulder; she jumped with a slight yelp and turned.

"Whoa; easy there, girl! s'Just me!" Chi-Chi said, one hand over her heart. "Man, you scared me! s'Everything alright?"

Bulma stared at her friend, biting her lip softly. "You need a ride?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Well, I was going to ask, but you seem a little stressed-out…"

"No problem; really, I'm fine. You wanna go get something? My treat."

Chi-Chi eyed her friend warily but walked around the car and hopped in. She turned to ask where they were going, but Bulma answered the unasked question as she pushed the key into the ignition.

"That little diner; the one we always go to."

Chi-Chi nodded her approval. Bulma began to back the car out of the parking space, but a familiar black motorcycle beat her into the lane. She blared her horn in frustration.

"Move it or lose it, jerk!" she called angrily; the young man astride the old cycle ignored her, waiting for a few moments, then turning sharply into street. Bulma growled to herself, then backed out rather quickly, her tires squealing. Chi-Chi shot her a concerned look, and her friend sighed in response.

"Sorry," she mumbled, turning on the radio. The lane opened up, and she pulled out, heading for the heart of the city.

The black motorcycle was moving steadily in the same direction as the green Mustang, but where a few minutes later Bulma continued straight, later parking her vehicle, the young man made a sharp right turn, pulling into a small alley. He cut the engine and stepped off the bike, removing the black helmet and placing it on the ground between the wall and the bike.

"Vegeta!"

The young man turned sharply; peering around the alley corner was the face of an older gentleman, slightly rounded in his features. The young man moved toward the face, one that he knew well, and turned onto the main street. The older man was in full view now, standing on the highest of a set of three worn stone steps. Even without the measly staircase he was easily taller than the younger man. The older shook his head.

"Well, get in here, kid," he said, stepping back inside the small building. The younger obliged, following him inside without a word. He made his way behind the bar counter and into the back kitchen.

It was a small but likeable place, as long as you knew somebody who knew somebody. Stepping inside one would first see the bar, which lied to the right. Several stools were lined up, and a television set was mounted to one wall, more often than not displaying some sort of game, usually baseball. To the left one would step down into a more restaurant-like setting; several tables were set up in the middle of the floor and booths lined the walls. Another television was mounted to one wall, again showing baseball. As the main point of these two areas was to "stop by for a drink," adults were the only beings present. Following the hallway into the back, however, one would find a small diner. There was a counter with several stools, many tables, and booths mounted to the walls. As no alcohol was permitted into this section, it was a popular hangout for the high schoolers.

The young man himself had hardly set foot into the diner section since he'd helped build it; Howard needed him more in the bar half.

"Vegeta, you get your ass in here, or I'm going to have your head on a platter if that window gets broken again!"

The younger man rolled his eyes, then hurried back into the first room. A brawl had broken out between two of the customers, and he realized what Howard had meant about the window. Leaping over the bar, he landed near one of the tables and hurried over to the fight. One of the older gentlemen watching held his hand out to stop him.

"I wouldn't get involved, mister; why don't you go back over there, hm?" he said, nodding his head toward the diner. "I don't reckon you're old enough to be over here yet."

Vegeta stared at him for a few seconds, then moved the old man's hand and stepped in between the two men fighting. They stopped instantly, if only out of complete shock.

"Hey, you! Git yurself outta th'way!" one of the men shouted at him, slurring his speech. Vegeta shook his head, sighing.

"Idiots," he muttered under his breath. Quick as lightning he swung his left foot around, slamming it into one of the men's jaw. He then spun around, slamming his fists into the other man's chest. Both men hit the ground at the same time.

The crowd that had gathered inside watched in confusion as the young man before them picked both drunken men up from the floor and carried them to the entrance. Their untrained eyes would never have been able to catch his motions; all they were able to see were the two men fall to the floor.

"Vegeta, shouldn't you be in your uniform?" the older gentleman from before asked, leaning on the bar. The younger raised an eyebrow.

"If my memory doesn't fail me, I seemed to have been interrupted before I could finish, Howard," he retorted, kicking the two waking men into the street. Howard laughed, and Vegeta smirked, stepping back behind the counter and towards the kitchens.

"You know this place is connected to a bar?"

"No way; you're pullin' my leg!"

Bulma steered her car along the street, parallel parking it behind a rusty old pick-up. She looked over to her friend, smiling at her. Chi-Chi looked at her, confused.

"You know the best thing about this car, Chi-Chi?"

"What?"

"This!" Bulma hopped straight out of her vehicle as she spoke without opening the door. Chi-Chi laughed at her friend and repeated this action. When Bulma had stepped around to the sidewalk, she and her friend walked down the street a little ways, finally stopping outside a small building. The hand-painted sign read "Howard's Diner," in blue lettering. Chi-Chi pointed to the building to the right of it.

"See? That's Howard's Pub! You can walk straight between the two inside!" Chi-Chi said, heading for the entrance of the diner.

"Huh. How come I never noticed it before; we must have eaten here a hundred times," she thought out-loud, following her friend inside.

Bulma recognized most of the people inside the diner from school; this place had to be one of the most popular hang-outs she knew of.

"Chi-Chi! Bulma! What are you guys doing here?"

Bulma turned at the sound of her name to see Goku hailing the pair of them. He was sitting with a short kid Bulma had seen at the high school that day. Chi-Chi pulled her over toward their booth, taking a seat across from Goku. Bulma slid in beside her.

"Hi!" Chi-Chi said, mainly to Goku. He smiled at her, then nodded his head to the boy seated beside him.

"Hey; this is Krillen, you guys. Krillen, this is Chi-Chi and Bulma."

Krillen nodded his head to both of them. Just then a waitress came by dropping off two drinks at their table. She asked if the girls wanted anything, and Chi-Chi and Bulma nodded, each ordering a soda. The waitress said she'd be right back.

"So, do you guys eat here often?" Bulma asked.

"Yeah, pretty often; we usually don't come here on the weekdays, though," Goku replied, finishing off his soda and placing it by the edge of the table.

"Really? How come?" Chi-Chi asked, staring at his empty glass.

"'Cause Vegeta's always working them to death—Ouch!" Krillen glared up at Goku, who had kicked him underneath the table. Chi-Chi and Bulma stared at the pair of them, confused. Goku forced a smile, then pushed Krillen out of the booth and dragged him away, assuring the girls they'd "Be right back."

"…Hm. I wonder what they're up to…" Bulma said to herself. Chi-Chi rolled her eyes.

"Just leave it alone, Bulma," her friend warned.

"No, seriously. Remember what Jin had said? Something about meeting in the old gym. We just gotta figure out who this Vegeta guy is; then we can find out what they're talking about!"

Chi-Chi shook her head; talking Bulma out of something was hopeless.

"Alright, Goku; alright! What is it? What'd you kick me for, anyway; that really hurt!"

Goku let go of his friend; they now stood outside the diner. He looked down at Krillen, who was currently glaring up at him.

"What's the deal, Goku?"

"Sorry, Krillen, but I keep telling you and telling you: Vegeta doesn't want anyone to know about the band."

"Yeah, I know; sorry," Krillen said, rubbing the back of his head. "But why'd you make such a big deal back there?"

"Because they've already had a run-in with him."

"Really? When?"

"During lunch today; you know how much he hates that bastard Kartic."

Krillen nodded; anyone with half a mind hated him. The only reason he kept passing was because of the baseball coach.

"So Bulma back there; she was the girl?"

"Yeah; gave Vegeta a ready excuse to kick his ass, so he took it. He didn't count on her wanting to repay the favor."

Krillen whistled. "So they know who he is and everything?"

Goku shook his head. "Not exactly. Kartic called him 'Jin,' so that's what they think his name is. And I've told you about Bulma; she won't give up until she's satisfied."

"Great." Krillen rubbed his forehead. "Well, let's head back inside before they get suspicious."

"What on earth is taking them so long!"

"Calm down, Bulma; they'll have their reasons," Chi-Chi assured her friend.

"Oh, they'd better," Bulma grumbled, tapping her fingers on the table irritably. Two drinks were set down in front of the girls, causing Bulma to look up in surprise.

"Oh! It's you!" she exclaimed.

Vegeta, who had been paying little attention, looked down at the booth. When he realized who it was, he jumped slightly.

"What are you two doing here!" he asked.

"Eating, duh," Bulma replied with a giggle. "I didn't know you worked here," she added, looking him up and down. He glanced down at himself, now wearing black slacks and a black polo with the words "Howard's Pub" embroidered on it. Around his waist was a small apron-like belt, the pockets just large enough to hold a small notepad, a pencil, a few straws, etc. He swallowed, then looked back at the pair of them, his eyes darting to the other two glasses. He pointed a finger at the empty seat.

"Who's sitting here?" he asked.

"Son and Krillen," Bulma replied, smiling pleasantly. "Won't you join us?"

He snorted, picking up the empty glass. "No, I'm rather busy."

"You don't look busy," Bulma said in a mock-pout. Vegeta's lip twitched.

"Despite appearances, I **am** busy," he replied, walking away. Bulma thought she heard him mutter something about "Sharon."

Chi-Chi glanced at her friend. "You really like him, don't you?"

Bulma stared at her incredulously. "I most certainly do not! …I just find him quite entertaining."

The two girls giggled to themselves.

"Ah! He forgot to give me a straw!" Bulma said, staring at her drink. "If he thinks he's getting a tip, he'd better think twice."

Chi-Chi laughed; just then Goku and Krillen returned, seating themselves opposite the girls again. Chi-Chi welcomed them back, but Bulma was casting a sort of glare in Goku's direction.

"What?" he asked after a while.

"How come you didn't tell me he worked here?" Bulma replied, taking a drink from her glass. Goku was confused.

"…Who?"

"Jin! You didn't tell me Jin worked here!"

"Oh…Well, in all honesty, you never really asked."

Bulma sighed frustratedly. Just then Vegeta returned, setting Goku's glass down on the table. Goku looked surprised to see him.

"Wait; what happened to Sharon?" he asked, looking up at him.

"Something happened at home, and Mai doesn't come in 'til five…" Vegeta said, staring at him.

"Mr. Waiter; you forgot something," Bulma called in a sing-song voice. Vegeta inhaled sharply and sighed before turning to her. She was pointing a finger to her drink. He stared blankly at her for a few minutes, finally tossing a straw onto the table.

"Alright, are you two ready to order?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"I am," Chi-Chi said. She pulled a menu from the stand and laid it out on the table, though she hardly needed it. Flipping to the page almost instantly, she gave her order as she pointed to the picture. She then passed the menu to Goku, who immediately handed it to Krillen. The small teen repeated Chi-Chi's actions, giving his order as he pointed it out. The menu was then passed the Bulma, who ordered with her hand on the front of the menu. She placed it back in the stand. Vegeta turned to leave.

"Wait; Goku, aren't you hungry?" Chi-Chi said; Goku smiled at her.

"He already knows what I want, but I could use another refill," he added, suspending the empty glass in front of the flaming-haired teen. Vegeta's lip twitched again, but he grabbed the glass and retreated to the kitchens.

"I don't think I've ever seen him wait tables before…" Goku commented. Krillen snorted in agreement, nodding his head.

"Really? Why does he work here, then?" Bulma asked, taking a sip through her straw.

"Well, he really works over in Howard's Pub. He helps around back, in the kitchens, most jobs no one else will take. Howard really relies on him," Goku replied. Bulma stared him; it had seemed like he had almost gone on but stopped himself just in time, before saying something he shouldn't. She shrugged it off and the four teens began talking of school and such things. Bulma quickly decided she enjoyed spending time with the two boys, and she could tell Chi-Chi did as well. It wasn't long before Vegeta returned with their orders. He set the plates down without much conversation and pulled another table over, placing the remaining dishes upon it. He left before Bulma could harass him further, and she pouted slightly through her meal. Time passed and Bulma came to the conclusion she should be getting home.

"That was the funniest thing I'd ever seen!" Krillen burst out, slamming his fist down on the table. Goku nodded, laughing with him.

"Yeah, but we never got away with it, remember? Remember what happened to your car?"

Krillen stopped laughing for a moment, then smiled appreciatively. "Yeah, but it was totally worth it."

Bulma smiled, she had been day-dreaming slightly and had no clue as to what they were talking about. "Well, it's been really fun, you guys, but I should be getting home."

"Aw, really? Well, it was great meeting you; we should get together and do this more often," Krillen said, getting up.

"You don't have to leave just because I am," Bulma started, feeling slightly guilty.

"What? Oh, don't worry about it, I really should get going, too," he replied, shrugging his shoulder. Goku followed him out of the booth, pulling a wallet out of the back pocket of his dark denim jeans.

"Okay, I don't have quite enough to cover everyone," he said after searching through it. His eyes fell upon Krillen, but Bulma interrupted.

"Don't worry about it, you guys; I'll get it."

"Are you sure? I don't wanna make you pay for all of this," Goku said, indicating all the empty dishes. Bulma smiled as she climbed to her feet.

"I said don't worry about it; I don't mind."

Chi-Chi scooted out of the booth and followed Goku and Krillen outside.

"Are you—" Krillen began, but Chi-Chi nudged him.

"C'mon; she said she'd get it, and she'll get it. You've got to see her car; let's go!" She dragged the two boys out the door, and Bulma smiled after her friend.

"Thanks, Chi!" she thought, heading toward the counter. There was a small bell lying beside the register, and she rang it after a few moments. When no one came, she rang it again.

"What on earth is taking him so long?" she thought irritably. Though she was certain she wasn't allowed into the pub area, she decided to check it out anyway. Upon entering she immediately noticed the change of atmosphere. Then she saw the reason behind the delay: a fierce argument had broken out between three of the customers. A large, burly man stood in between the three, possibly the only reason a fight hadn't broken out.

"Vegeta! Get your ass out here!" he shouted in direction of the kitchens. Bulma watched with widening eyes as one of the men tossed the burly gentlemen out of the way and dove for the other two. Bulma looked over to see Jin jump the counter and enter the area of the fight.

"Don't—!" Bulma shouted; was he nuts? He was going to get killed!

"Great; another fight," Vegeta muttered to himself as he heard Howard call his name. Emerging from the kitchens he jumped the bar with ease, and his eyes fell upon the problem. Three men, again a drunken brawl. If he didn't like Howard so much…But it didn't matter. He started towards them but froze as he heard his name. He turned his head to see Bulma.

"That girl…!" he thought angrily. Just then one of the men fell into him, knocking him to the floor. He heard the girl gasp but had little time to worry about her. As he had fallen face-down, he used his arms to push himself off the ground. The unconscious man fell back to the ground.

"One down," he muttered. Turning, his eyes met the other two, still grappling. He kicked the closest man in the chest with the ball of his foot, then turned and punched the last in the jaw. They fell on top of each other. Vegeta rubbed the back of his head, then went to Howard, helping him up with one arm.

"Thanks, kid; I owe you one," he said, patting him on the shoulder.

"As if I haven't heard that one before," Vegeta replied, rolling his eyes. "You could do me the favor of kicking these three out yourself, though; I've got something else to take care of."

"Alright; will do. Thanks, Vegeta."

The teen nodded, then turned to Bulma, who was staring at him in disbelief. He rolled his eyes again, heading over.

Bulma was nearly trembling in shock; how had he managed that! It was unbelievable! She then turned angry; was he rolling his eyes at her?

"Hm! The nerve of him…" she muttered to herself as he reached her.

"What was that?" he asked, staring down at her. She snorted.

"Nothing; I'm waiting to pay my bill."

Vegeta growled before heading out to the diner register. He stepped behind the counter as Bulma followed him, stepping around the front of it. He began clicking numbers in and eventually reached the total. He held his hand out, and she looked at it, confused. He sighed.

"Cash, credit; you said you were going to pay," he said in an almost bored fashion. Infuriated, she reached into her purse and slammed her credit card onto the counter. He stared at her with an eyebrow raised, then picked the card up from the counter and scanned it. He handed it back to her and she snatched it back, shoving it into her purse again.

"What is your problem?" he asked, annoyed, as he handed her a receipt and a pen.

"What's my problem! What's **your** problem!" she shot back, scribbling her name illegibly onto the receipt and sliding them back over to him.

He shoved them into a drawer. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She leaned closer to him over the counter. "You save me from some demon-jock in the middle of the cafeteria, can't say my name or hardly even look at me, and now you've got some sort of attitude! What's your deal? Are you bi-polar or what?"

"Listen, Girl," he replied, lowering his voice. "This is the way I am, so either deal with it or avoid me. Now, it may appear that I "saved" you, but it wasn't intentional. I simply enjoy beating his ass into the ground. And lastly, I suggest you watch yourself, because I know Kartic, and I know that his little escapade in the cafeteria isn't the end of what he's after."

She stared at him, speechless. He knew Kartic was after her; he could help her! …No; he didn't care what happened to her. Whether or not he knew didn't matter; he only cared about himself. She mouthed wordlessly at him for a few minutes, then turned to the exit and left. Vegeta stared after her, sighing. He hadn't meant it like that.

* * *

Hurray for Chapter two, everybody! I've gotten a few reviews, but I'd love to hear from more of you.

nessy1417: Thanks for the input!

bulmas-angel- Thanks very much; I guess you found out, didn't you?

Okay, one question, you guys: Numbers 17 and 18 will be involved in the story, but I want to call them something other then "17" and "18." Any ideas? What did you guys do?


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